The blind man loves you with his eyes, the deaf man with his music. The hospital, the battlefield, the torture room, serve you with numberless petitions. On this most ordinary night, so bearable, so plentiful in grave distractions, touch this worthless ink, this work of shame. Inform me from the great height of your beauty.
Inform me from the great height of your beauty.
I discovered the genesis of this lovely melody on pages 2–4 of the Challenge Duplicate Book, scribbled in Germany sometime during the winter of 1972:
My official life
has become extensive
First of all
I only sing official songs
at official concerts
and I play
my official Ramírez guitar
for official audiences
In Stockholm a female official
serving drinks at the Crazy Horse
porno bar infected me
with a disease
diagnosed officially as gonoreahia (sic)
cured by an official and monstrous
needle in Berlin
My phone conversations are all official
even the most casual
Iris is officially unavailable
She told me that at the jukebox
which was undergoing my official
inspection
Her beauty was official blonde Botticelli
emerging among the pizzas in Munich
on my official visit to the student section
The “official” song is abandoned here at the bottom of page 2 (unlined). On page 4 (unlined) we find the articulation of the “seed desire” which is the energy behind the original entry and its evolution into PETITIONS:
Only to have Iris
smile on me
from the great height
of her beauty